I am battling a touch of sickness and lack of sleep, so the glib, tongue-in-cheek follow-up to yesterday’s post, “1962 > 1954,” shan’t be coming down the pipe—at least not in the form I intended originally. With the Feast of the Circumcision only days away, it seems appropriate to reflect on the past year while making predictions, some wild and some sane, about what 2015 has in store for not only yours truly, but the world at large. However, I prefer, at this moment, to be inappropriate; because I really do not have anything to say on these things that you can’t find from other bloggers who far more adept at prognostication and reflection than I. Perhaps if my wife had given birth or the Detroit Tigers won the World Series, I’d have something meaningful to jot down. Oh, sure, the family did many delightful things this past year. I have the great blessing to be wedded to a lady who exemplifies the expression “better half,” along with being furnished with four youngsters who never cease to amaze me; it’s just that the everyday joys I hold dear in my heart aren’t likely to carry any sizable interest outside of a narrow circle of close friends and family. And as for sports, there’s nothing memorable to report, except that Daniel Bryan won the WWE World Heavyweight Championship at WrestleMania.
Some “public stuff” did happen along the way, too. My book, which I now think of as my last testament on the arcane world of aviation law, came out. I also took some modest steps away from blogging by writing articles for various outlets—something I am quite pleased with, actually. (And so “Thank You!” to those who gave me that opportunity; I am very grateful.) Oh, and much to my mother’s delight, I appeared on the local NBC affiliate to discuss that terrible tragedy in Ukraine. The one that everyone seems to have already forgotten about.
As usual, I plan to do a few things, maybe even many things, differently next year. To circle back to the original plan for this post, I am, to the best of my abilities, going to commit to praying full-time out of my 1945 Benziger Brothers Breviarium Romanum with the assistance of the St. Lawrence Press’s Ordo Recitandi. It may just happen that by year’s end, I, too, will be shouting condemnation upon “1962.” I just hope no one accuses me of crypto-sedevacantism, especially since one of the primary motivations for this “shift” is to get myself praying more. Regrettably, I need all the help I can get in that department.
To close, allow me to thank all of you who take the time to read, and sometimes comment upon (or ruthlessly criticize), Opus Publicum. I pray that the remaining days of 2014 prove peaceful to you and your families.